Hollow
by TwilightObsessed522
Summary: Companion to 'Out of the Dust We Rise'. Emmett Cullen is an NYPD ESU Officer. On his day off of work, he learns about the attacks on the World Trade Center on the news. He decides to respond to the scene and faces challenges he never imagined, changing his life forever. **Warning! Contains graphic depictions of the events of 9/11 and it's aftermath.**
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I have a new story for you.**

 **It's a companion fic to my story** _ **Out of the Dust We Rise**_ **. Emmett and Rosalie were briefly mentioned in that story, but I decided that I wanted to tell their story, too, but this fic will mostly revolve around Emmett's experiences during the events of 9/11 and the aftermath. I'm sure you know by now where to find the story's summary, so I'm not adding it to this A/N.**

 **Also, before I start I wanted to let you all know that I am labeling the characters as Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, Bella. Why? Because Edward and Bella will make an appearance in this story, although brief.**

 **Like my previous 9/11 fic, I spent hundreds of hours doing research for this story to try and be as accurate as I can. Most of the events and situations in this story are based on real accounts of ESU responders, with minor changes made by me. That being said, none of my characters are based on a single individual. They are all a combination of multiple ESU Officers.**

 **Now, on to the story.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Hollow**

 **Chapter 1**

 **September 9, 2016**

"Shit. I really hate this," I mutter under my breath as I feel the plane jerk because of some minor turbulence. I grip the edge of my seat so tight, my knuckles turn white.

As I close my eyes to try and calm myself down, I feel a hand gently touch and squeeze my own, instantly making me feel a bit better.

I slowly turn my head to the side and open my eyes to look at the woman sitting next to me, my beautiful wife, Rosalie.

She smiled gently at me and murmured, "I know you do, babe. We just have a few more hours to go before we reach SeaTac. Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

 _A few more hours? I can manage that...I think. I've done okay so far, but I know that I won't be getting much sleep._

I gave her a big smile, but I could tell she knew it was fake. "I'll try."

Rosalie frowned at me, but moved to lean her head against my shoulder, most likely as a way to try and give me some more comfort, as there wasn't much more she could do since we were thousands of feet in the air.

 _Just like all of those people that were trapped in those towers_ , I thought to myself, making me flinch at the memory.

I felt my wife squeeze my hand a little tighter. This time of the year was difficult for the both of us, and things got worse as the anniversary of that horrific day approached.

She and I both suffered many losses on September 11, 2001. I know we both feel pain and grief because of it, but I have never told her about the guilt I feel for thinking that her pain could never begin to compare to mine.

I know that makes me sound like a horrible person, and husband, but my mind keeps justifying that feeling by reminding me that Rosalie saw the events of that day through a television screen.

I was actually at the World Trade Center.

My name is Emmett Cullen...and I was a First Responder on that infamous day in history, and in the days and months that followed, I worked as a Rescue and Recovery worker.

That was fifteen years ago, but as much as I want to forget, I can't...because it's left it's mark on me forever. I lost more than just people I knew that day. I lost a part of my soul, leaving it hollowed.

As exhaustion began to catch up to me, I slowly drifted off to a nightmarish slumber, filled with fear and death, as my wife slept peacefully on my shoulder.

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 **A/N: So this is the first chapter. I currently have about 7 chapters already written, so it's almost finished. I'm hoping to have the rest of the story finished within the next week or two, and then I'll start posting the rest of the chapters.**

 ****As this is only the first chapter and not much has happened yet, I'm not expecting too many questions right now, but if you have some, PLEASE SIGN IN, so I can personally respond to you. Thank you.****

 **Also, I haven't forgotten about** _ **Northern Light**_ **. After this story is complete and posted, I'll work on updating it. :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - Tuesday Morning

**A/N: Here is the second chapter. I've decided to update every 2 days until I finish this story.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Tuesday Morning**

 **September 11, 2001**

I was leaning up against my kitchen counter enjoying the wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee while waiting for the pot to fill up enough for me to pour a cup.

I was going to savor every sip once I got it. I loved coffee, but I rarely got to taste the good stuff.

As much as I love my wife, Rosalie, she has no clue how to make a decent cup of joe. The stuff at the station wasn't much better either.

But I got lucky today. My wife went into work early, because she had a doctor's appointment around nine o'clock, and I had the day off, which was rare, and it gave me the opportunity to make my own coffee for a change.

Being a member of NYPD's Emergency Service Unit or ESU, was tough work. The unit was basically a combination of Rescue and SWAT, so we were trained to do anything from propelling down the sides of buildings and bridges to deal with jumpers, to handeling extremely dangerous situations involving weapons and hostages, amongst many others. We even have our own K-9 unit.

Each squad is called a 'Truck' and given a number depending on which burough they are from. For example, 1-Truck and 2-Truck are from Manhattan. 3-Truck and 4-Truck are from the Bronx. 5-Truck is on Staten Island. 6-Truck, 7-Truck, and 8-Truck are in Brooklyn. And finally, 9-Truck is in South Queens, while 10-Truck is in North Queens.

I'm a member of 8-Truck, since my wife and I live in Brooklyn.

After filling up my cup with some hot coffee, I made my way into the living room, sat down on the sofa, and turned on the TV.

I was slowly sipping my drink, while flipping through the channels when my cell phone started ringing.

I set my cup down and got up to grab my phone. Not looking to see who was calling, I flipped it open and answered, "Hello?"

 _"Cullen! Are you near a TV right now?"_

Recognizing the voice as belonging to James Hunter, one of the guys I worked with in ESU, I responded, "Yeah, bro. Why? What's up?"

 _"Turn on the news,"_ James said quickly.

I walked back into the living room, grabbed the remote, and asked, "Which channel?"

 _"Doesn't matter. Just pick one!"_

So I did.

On the news was a tall skyscraper that appeared to be on fire, and the reporter was talking about the World Trade Center. At that moment, I realized the building on fire was the North Tower of the World Trade Center- the very building where my wife worked.

As I looked over at the clock on the wall, the time showed it was 9:00. That means Rosalie would have already left work an hour ago to get to her appointment. Knowing how punctual she was eased my mind a bit.

"What the hell happened?"

James was silent for a moment. _"People are saying a plane flew into the tower."_

As I looked back to the TV, I watched as different scenes were being shown, before once again showing the burning tower. "How is that even possible? There's a no-fly zone in that...what the fuck?"

My words cut off as I witness the unthinkable. The news feed was live, and as I'm watching, a plane enters the shot at exactly 9:03 and crashes right into the South Tower.

"Holy shit!" we both exclaim at the same time.

I blink my eyes a few times as if doing so will change what I just saw, but to my dismay, it doesn't. The scene on the TV is now showing thick black smoke pouring out of both towers. And then at that moment I realized two things.

The first, was that two planes hitting both of the towers was no coincidence. We were under attack.

And the second, was that my younger brother Edward worked in the South Tower, and as far as I knew, he was still in there.

 _"Cullen! You still there?"_ James asked frantically.

"I'm here, but not for long. I need to try and call my wife and brother, and then I'm heading down there to see if I can help."

 _"Alright, man. I'll meet you at the station in a bit. Later."_ Then he hung up.

I immedately tried calling Rosalie, but she wasn't answering. I tried a few more times, but still got nothing, so then I tried my brother.

The phone rang a few times, but he never picked up. I tried again and again, but to no avail. I left him a message telling him to call me as soon as possible and then hung up.

I then decided to call my parents and let them know what was happening and asked them to call me if they hear from Rosalie or Edward.

I then hurried to get to the station and once there, I met up with James and we quickly opened our lockers and put on our uniforms. The equipment trucks had already left for the scene, so we would have to grab the rest of our gear when we got there.

James and I managed to hitch a ride in the back of a squad car with some beat cops from the local precinct, since they were already headed to the World Trade Center.

"Hey fellas, mind if I use my radio for a moment?" I asked one of the cops.

The one driving shrugged and said, "Do whatever you need to do."

"Thanks."

I grabbed my radio and pushed the button. "This is Officer Emmett Cullen from 8-Truck. I'm responding to the scene. What is the location of the Command Post?" ESU has it's own radio frequency called Tactical-G, or Tac-G for short. Only other ESU officers can use it.

The radio crackled a little before a voice answered. _"This is Captain Aro Volturi from 1-Truck. The Command Post is located at the corner of Church and Vesey. Extreme caution is advised. Over._ "

"Got it, Captain. Thanks. Over."

"Church and Vesey? Things must be bad if they set up Command that far from the Towers," James said to me.

I sighed heavily, and turned my head to look at him. James was looking out the window as the squad car raced through the streets of Manhattan. After a moment, I turned away from him and did the same.

The fact that I was seeing hundreds of people standing still watching the various TV's located in store windows showing the news, or listening to portable radios, rather than continue to go about their busy day, was strange.

I didn't like it. It made me very uneasy. There's always something going down in New York, but it's citizens rarely stop moving.

"Yeah," I replied quietly as the squad car continued to blare it sirens and speed through the streets. I didn't know what else to say. I think we both knew the situation we were about to be a part of would be the worst we've ever faced so far.

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 **A/N: Remember, if you have any questions for me, please SIGN IN, so I can answer you personally. Thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Church and Vesey Command

**A/N: Here's the third chapter.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - Church and Vesey Command**

The closer we got to the World Trade Center, the more we began to see actual evidence of the attacks.

The first thing we all began to notice was the paper.

It was everywhere. It floated gracefully through the air, covering the streets. To me, it looked like someone had taken the remnants from a bunch of paper shredding machines and dumped the contents from somewhere up above.

When we were just a few blocks away, it started to get worse. Laying amongst the paper and ash, were bits and pieces of what appeared to be human flesh, blown from the towers upon the impact of the planes.

I tightly squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase what I was seeing and hearing, but at the same time I knew that it was pointless. I had seen a lot of horrible stuff in my line of work, but nothing could have prepared me for this.

At about 9:20, we finally arrived at the corner of Church and Vesey St.

It was complete chaos. I could see fleeing civilians moving in all directions while members of the NYPD, PAPD, FDNY, ESU, and paramedics tried to help them out.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, all of our senses were assaulted at once. The air was filled with the sounds of people screaming and crying, sirens going off, and radio transmissions. Our nostrils stung with the smell of smoke and burnt metal. And our eyes didn't know whether to look at the people running around, or up at the burning towers.

After a few seconds, we finally came to our senses and got to work. The two cops we rode here with went off to do their thing, while James and I quickly located the various ESU equipment trucks, all of which were left unattended, and made our way over to them.

"Holy shit! Look at this." James said as we reached them. All of the trucks had some kind of damage from the falling debris. The entire front end of one of them was almost completely crushed, and the others had cracked windshields and windows.

We quickly and silently put on our blue helmets and began to grab whatever we thought we would need. James was able to grab a bag of entry tools, such as a pry bar, axe, sledge hammer, and other stuff.

As for me, I got us both a pair of Scott-packs, a personal breathing apparatus with a heat resistant mask and an air tank, similar to what firemen wear. I also found a small medical bag with various items in it.

Not able to find anything else, our next task was to find Captain Aro Volturi, the man in charge of the radios, and find out our assignments.

It wasn't very hard. The tall, raven haired, Italian man was standing in the middle of everything shouting orders into two different radios.

We quickly approached him, and asked for our orders. He looked down at some papers he had in front of him and tried to figure out what to have us do.

"I'm putting you two on Team 3 with Biers, Connelly, and Marks. They're just about to head to the North Tower. You should find them over by the stairs to the plaza," he told us as he wrote our names and rank down on the list, and then without further word he got back to the radios.

With everything going on it was difficult to get our bearings of where everything was located, but somehow the two of us managed to figure things out, and next thing we know the familiar faces of the men we were teamed up with came into view.

"Hey boys. Looks like we're stuck with you," I greeted them lightly. In our line of work, we dealt with a lot of heavy stuff, so using humor to help keep our spirits up was common, though not always appropriate.

Riley Biers, a 22 year old with short, light brown hair and bright blue eyes, smiled over at us and called out, "Well, if it isn't Emmett Cullen and James Hunter from 8-Truck. Where the hell have you been?"

"It was supposed to be our day off, but we couldn't let you guys get all the credit for the hard work," James joked, despite the circumstances that brought us here.

Unlike the NYPD, which has over 3,000 officers, ESU has far fewer members, and the fact that members of all the 'Trucks' train together, means that for the most part we all know each other. I have to admit that it made working with each other so much easier.

I felt a gentle tap on my arm and looked over to find Liam Connelly standing next to me. With his red hair, green eyes, and pale skin, he was the stereotypical Irishman, except that he had a very quiet nature. He and I have known each other for years, and our wives were good friends.

"Hey, man. How are you holding up?" he asked in his lightly accented voice.

I sighed heavily and shrugged a shoulder. "As good as anyone can be in this situation, I guess."

"Have you heard from Rosalie at all?"

I shook my head. "No. I tried calling her earlier, but she didn't answer. I'm assuming she's okay though, because she had a doctor's appointment this morning and she would have had to leave work early to make it."

Liam smiled at me. "She's always been a stickler when it comes to being on time, that one."

I returned his smile, but it quickly fell. "To be honest, I'm more concerned about my brother, Edward. The company he works for is on the 72nd floor of the South Tower. I tried to get in touch with him too, but I didn't hear anything from him either."

"Damn, I didn't know that. I'm sorry. I hope he's alright," Liam offered sadly.

I clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him. Right after that, Sergeant Austin Marks, a big, burly man with salt and pepper hair and brown eyes, ordered us to start heading to the North Tower.

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 **A/N: If you have questions for me, remember to SIGN IN please, so I can answer you personally. Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4 - The Plaza and North Tower

**A/N: I just wanted to let you all know that there will be about 11 or 12 chapters for this story, and I currently have 9 of them pre-written. And since I'm finishing one chapter per day, I've decided to update daily until this is finished.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me so far. I really appreciate it. :)**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - The Plaza and North Tower**

As the team did its best to race up the stone staircase towards the plaza while squeezing past the many civilians still trying to flee for their lives, my mind wandered back to my brother.

 _Is he alright? Did he make it out of the building? If so, did he use these very stairs, or did he take another route to safety?_

I wish I had answers to those questions, but I didn't. I just had to have faith that he was safe.

I shook my head to clear my mind. As much as I love my little brother, I need to remember that I have a job to do and I need to be able to keep my emotions in check so I can focus. Not doing so is one of the most dangerous things someone in my profession can do. It can mean the difference between life and death.

After finally reaching the top of the stairs, we quickly walked down an alleyway located between the Custom's House and WTC5, staying close to the sides of the buildings as we moved.

"What the hell was that?" Liam asked as we all heard a loud crashing noise coming from the plaza, followed by another and another.

"It's probably just a bunch of debris hitting the ground," Sergeant Marks replied gruffly.

For the most part, he was right. There was a constant stream of falling objects from the towers.

"I don't know, Sarge. Wouldn't different things make different sounds? This is just the same noise over and over," James chimed in.

We had all stopped about half way down the alley to find out what was making the noise, and we didn't have to wait long to find out.

As we looked up and around our surroundings, we could see large pieces of debris crashing down from the towers.

Suddenly, as we all watched, a body fell to the ground with such force, that it just...exploded on impact with the pavement. Everything that had been inside of it, was now on the outside. It no longer looked like a human being.

But what got to me the most, was the sound it made as it hit the ground. It was the same noise we had been hearing and wondering about. Now we knew. That was the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

"Shit. I think I'm gonna be sick," groaned Biers. "I know we've all seen jumpers before, but not like this or so many."

"And we've got another problem," I added. "That's the area we need to get through to get to the North Tower. It's practially a minefield." I watched a few more people fall and jump, sometimes two or more at a time.

"Alright! Listen up! I want everyone to hug the sides of the buildings as we move ahead. Be careful and keep your eyes and ears open. Now let's go!" ordered Seargent Marks as he took the lead.

It was about two minutes later that a frantic Captain Volturi issued a warning over the radios for all of us to get out because there was a report of a third plane making it's way to the WTC.

Moments later, we heard the sound of a jet engine approaching, and we all ducked our heads waiting for another impact to shower us with more debris and bodies. But it never came.

Moments later, another radio transmission came across our radios, informing us that it was a false alarm. The supposedly inbound plane was actually a pair of U.S. Fighter Jets flying over the shores of Manhattan.

After we took a moment to compose ourselves again, we then moved forward and then around the back of the Custom's House and then stood underneath the awning. When the sky was momentarily free of falling debris and people, we'd make a quick dash across the area until we were finally standing at the very base of the North Tower amongst other cops and firefighters.

As I quickly glanced around the area, I noticed that both of the officers that James and I arrived with were already here and currently helping to direct the fleeing civilians towards safety.

There were firefighters everywhere. They were walking in and out of the broken windows that led into the lobby for quicker access.

We decided it would be easier to do the same thing, and just before I stepped inside the building, I quickly glanced over at the South Tower and the people rushing out of it, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of bronze among the crowd, only to be disappointed.

Once we were all inside, Sergeant Marks pulled out his radio and said, "Team 3 to Command. We have arrived at Tower 1. What do you need us to do? Over."

The radio crackled for a second before Captain Volturi responded. _"Command to Team 3. Your location is noted. Team 1 is already inside the North Tower and on it's way to the 31st Floor to help some Firemen. Double check the floors they passed for people needing help. Over."_

"Orders received. Over." Then Sergeant Marks looked at us and said, "Let's go boys."

So we moved up onto the mezzanine and walked over to the door that led to Stairwell C, but as we reached it, Sergeant Marks ordered us to leave our heavier equipment behind and take only the smaller tools and medical bags.

At first I thought it was a crazy idea because we had already lugged over 50 pounds of equipment this far, but it would enable us to move more quickly.

The team then made it's way up the flights of stairs, which were covered in water from burst pipes or sprinklers, and filled with smoke, checking each floor for people left behind, while passing others coming from higher up.

We had just reached the 14th floor, when we found some people in need of our help in one of the offices.

There was a man and a woman, and they appeared to be in some kind of shock, and refused to leave. While myself, Sergeant Marks, and Liam stayed behind to try and help them, James and Riley checked the rest of the floor before returning to where we were.

Despite minutes of trying to get these people to leave, they still refused. I glanced over at a clock on the wall and noted that it was now 9:59.

As I was in the middle of thinking that we'd have to physically carry these people down numerous flights of stairs, we all heard a rumbling noise.

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 **A/N: Next update will be tomorrow. :)**


	5. Chapter 5 - Collapses

**A/N: As promised, here is the next update. :)**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 - Collapses**

Within seconds, the rumbling grew louder as whatever was making the noise got closer. The building began to shake, and everyone dropped to the floor. Chunks of wall and ceiling tiles rained down on all of us.

A few seconds ticked by and then the power suddenly went out, but thankfully the emergency lights kicked in immediately. They weren't as strong as the regular lights, but they did the job while casting a creepy luminescence like something out of a horror film.

As I pushed myself off the floor and brushed myself off, I looked around the now darkened, dust filled room and listened to the sounds of people coughing, groaning, and swearing.

"Is everyone okay?" I called out as I squinted through the low light. I quickly gave that up and remembered I had a flashlight strapped to my utility belt. I clicked it on and aimed it around the room everytime someone answered, needing to see for myself that we were all alive.

"What the fuck was that?" Riley asked as he picked himself up and looked around.

As if hearing his question, our radios suddenly went off. _"Everyone in the North Tower is to evacuate the building immediately! I repeat, evacuate the North Tower immediately. The South Tower has just collapsed!"_

"Did everyone just hear what I did? The tower came down?" Liam asked worriedly.

"Yeah, man. That's what Volturi said," James replied solemnly, shaking his head in disbelief. "How much do you think collapsed?"

"There's one way to find out," Sergeant Marks answered with a cough. He picked up his radio and said, "This is Team 3 in the North Tower. How much of the building is gone? Over."

The response was immediate. _"The whole fucking thing. Over."_

The two office employees began to sob as the gravity of the situation hit them. Everyone on Team 3 just looked at one another with a look of devastation as we came to the realization that the chances of anyone surviving a collapse of that magnitude was most likely zero.

We had men from each of our Trucks inside of that building. They were our friends and brothers.

And now they were gone.

But if we didn't get our asses out of this tower soon, we'd be next.

Sergeant Marks told us to start making our way down the stairs with the two office workers, and we had made it down to the 5th floor when we reached a problem.

At the bottom of the stairwell, a group of frightened office workers huddled together, unable to get out of the door we had originally come through. It must have gotten blocked by debris from the South Tower. We had to find another way out.

It was quickly decided that each member of the team, except the Sergeant, would spread out over the last few floors to try and find another way out. I had gone back up to the 9th floor thinking someone must have been following behind me, because it was a rule in ESU that you never go anywhere alone.

It wasn't until I heard someone down below shout that they had found a way out, that I realized I was by myself. So I quickly radioed Sergeant Marks to let him know that I had gotten separated and in return, he told me that the team would meet up with me in the lobby.

But it never happened.

By the time I had finally reached the dust filled lobby, I glimpsed a few ESU uniforms running through the broken windows. I ran after them, thinking it was my own team, only to find out that it was actually Team 1. Not knowing where my own team had gone, I decided to just tag along with them.

Team 1 consisted of five men.

Sergeant Tom Banner was the team leader. He is a short, balding man of 40 from 7-Truck.

Sam Uley was a newbie from 4-Truck, fresh out of college at the age of 22. He's about 6'4 and very muscular, with russet skin and jet black hair, reminiscent of his Native American heritage.

Marshall Lee was a bit of a mystery to me. I didn't know much about him other than he was 34 years old and a single father, and that he came from 2-Truck.

Tyler Crowley was a man I knew pretty well. He has mocha colored skin and short, curly brown hair. He's also one of the kindest guys I've ever met. He would literally give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. He came from 7-Tuck like Sergeant Banner.

Out of everyone of Team 1, I knew Jasper Whitlock the best. With his wavy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and laid back attitude, he was super easy to get along with. He and I had been best friends since we were kids. We were room mates in college, and he is also a member of 8-Truck, like me.

"Cullen? Is that you man? Where the fuck did you come from?" Jasper asked me in surprise.

As I went to respond, we had reached the street just as a large chunk of debris came crashing down a few yards from us.

Standing under the temporary shelter of an awning, I said, "Long story. I'll tell you later." Jasper nodded his agreement and focused his attention back to more serious matters.

Time was running out, and we needed to figure out a way to get past the debris without getting hit.

After the team took a moment to get over the shock of having another member, it was decided that we would separate into pairs of two to decrease the odds of getting hit, and that we would run to the safety of another awning across the way.

It took about one minute for all of us to make it over, and we were now near the corner of West and Vesey.

As we took a second to catch our breaths, suddenly a loud rumbling noise began, just like the one from earlier. We knew what it meant and we all began to run as fast as we could.

Behind us, a gigantic cloud of dust barreled along the streets. Everyone split up and dove for some sort of cover as it caught up to us within seconds.

I knew I didn't have time to try and run into a building, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dove underneath a firetruck. I wasn't all the way under it when the warm, thick, dust engulfed me completely, but the force of it pushed me further beneath it as the angry cloud continued to roar past.

It was dark and the cloud was thick, making it hard to breathe. I reached down and grabbed my Scott pack, placed it over my face and turned it on.

But instead of fresh air, a bunch of dirt and dust filled my mouth, making me choke and gag. I pulled off my mask and purged the regulator, clearing it out, before putting it back on and inhaling as much air as I could.

Now that I no longer had to focus on getting air, I could pay closer attention to what was going on around me. I could hear the faint sounds of objects hitting the truck and I felt the truck dip down as it was struck by something large. I figured it would be a good idea to get out now rather than to take the chance of being crushed underneath the vehicle.

As the roar of the cloud began to lessen, I cautiously dragged myself out from under the truck through a thick powdery substance, hoping to not get struck by some random object flying through the air. By the time I fully stood up, the rumbling noise had completely stopped, leaving nothing but silence in it's wake.

I could barely see anything through the thick haze left behind by the dust cloud, and not hearing a thing, was the most eerie sensation I've ever experienced. I stretched my arms out in front of me to see if I could find my way around.

Wondering what happened to everyone, I reached up and lifted my mask and called out, "Whitlock! Crowley! Anyone there?"

I heard a groan somewhere to my left and slowly shuffled over in that direction until one of my feet touched something hard. I felt around with my hand and discovered I was standing in front of another truck. The groaning soon turned into coughing as someone tried to get air, but it was coming from right in front of me, letting me know that someone was under this truck.

I bent over and began to feel around when my hand suddenly touched what felt like a boot. I grabbed ahold of it and tugged until the person underneath was freed. I could feel them moving around as they gasped for air. I felt my way up toward the person's head and removed my mask and placed it over their face, giving them the oxygen they needed.

Once he had his fill, he handed me my mask back. We shared it until the person was able to find their own mask and clear it out. "Thanks, man," the familiar voice rasped. It was Jasper!

"Jasper, it's me, Cullen," I replied with relief. "You gonna be okay?"

He coughed a little, but told me, "I'm good. Have you found anyone else?"

"Not yet. I'll send a message over Tac-G, and see if we can locate anyone."

I grabbed my radio and wiped it off as much as I could and pressed the button. "This is Emmett Cullen. If you can hear me, tell me your location. Over."

The radio crackled and a voice filled the air. _"This is Banner. I'm on Chambers Street. Over."_

As I tried to see through the dust, I could start to make out the shapes of things, but just barely. There was no way to tell where we were or what direction to head in.

"Copy that, Banner. I can't tell where I am right now, but I'll try and find you. Over."

 _"Copy that, Cullen. Over."_

I grabbed onto Jasper's arm and started pulling him in a random direction, hoping we were going the right way.

After a few minutes, I noticed that I could see more clearly the farther we walked until finally, the dust cleared and we were greeted with the sight of the blue sky and Sergeant Banner standing with Crowley, Lee, Uley, and many others.

My elation at making it out alive was quickly replaced by sadness and uncertainty as I realized that I didn't see one face from Team 3 anywhere.

* * *

 **A/N: Here's an interesting fact: A member of the real ESU Team 3 really did get separated from his group and ended up with Team 1, and survived.**

 **Next update tomorrow.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Missing

**A/N: Thank you all for following, favoriting, and reviewing this story. :)**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - Missing**

Now that we were in fresh open air, Jasper and I removed our Scott masks and began trying to wipe the dust off of our uniforms. There was so much, we looked liked ghosts. You couldn't even tell what color our uniforms were.

Once we deemed ourselves a little more presentable, we sprinted over to the men of Team 1 and began hugging them as they hugged us back.

Afterwards, I walked back over to Sergeant Banner and asked, "Have you heard anything about the guys from Team 3?"

For a moment, I expected him to say no, but to my surprise, he smiled at me and replied, "Actually, I have. I heard over one of the Fire Department's radios that some members of Team 3 have made it over to Stuyvesant High School."

I scrunched my face up in confusion. "What the hell are they doing there?"

"There's some kind of set up there with water, food, and medical aid. I won't blame you for going if you want to go meet up with them. I'll even let Command know where you're going."

I managed a weak smile and thanked him before telling the other guys where I was heading. I wished them all luck, because they decided to stick around to see what else they could do, and then I turned around and began walking in the direction of the high school.

I had gotten about two streets down when I spotted a paramedic using a fire hose to spray down his ambulance and as I walked up to him, he looked up at me and then down at the hose and then back up to me.

"Need a shower?" he asked me with a small grin.

I looked down at myself and replied, "A shower would be awesome. I look like a fucking snowman."

The paramedic chuckled and told me to stand back about ten feet. I did as I was told and a second later he turned the hose on me.

As the cool spray of the water hit me washing away the death and destruction, I felt so much better. After I had been thoroughly hosed down, I thanked the paramedic and continued on my way.

About twenty minues later, I was stopped by an ambulance. "Hey, buddy. Need a lift anywhere?" he driver asked.

Soaking wet and exhausted, I nodded my head at him. "Yeah. Could you take me to Stuyvesant High School? Some of my men are already there."

The driver pointed to back of the vehicle and told me to get in. Two minutes into the ride, my radio went off. _"All ESU units muster at the Police Memorial, North Cove Mariner by the water."_

"Shit," I muttered to myself. I banged on the window and when it opened up, I said, "I just got a call over the radio. I need to get to the Police Memorial down by Liberty Street. Can we turn around?"

"No problem, man." The driver did a quick U-turn and headed the other way.

After arriving at my destination, I hopped out of the ambulance, thanked the driver, and walked the rest of the way until I reached the park.

There were emergency vehicles parked all over the place. There were also ESU officers everywhere. I searched for familiar faces and found quite a few people I knew that weren't on either of the teams I worked with today.

Most of the guys I saw looked horrible. They walked around as if in their own little world, in a state of shock over what they had witnessed or experienced. I could tell that some were barely able to hold themselves together. Who could blame them though?

Eventually, everyone was ordered to line up and a roll call was done. Shouts of 'Here!' were repeated over and over. The worst part was when a name would be called and there was no answer. Sometimes guys showed up a little late after getting disoriented or confused of their whereabouts. Other times, you recognized the names of the men that were inside of the towers when they collapsed and you just knew that they were gone.

After roll call was done, lists were made consisting of the names of those that were deemed as missing, and then every other hour those names would be called again in more roll calls as officers continued to arrive, in the hopes that they might be some of the missing guys.

Since I had been told that members of Team 3 had been located, I decided to stick around and wait for them to show up. I just needed to see for myself that they were alive.

It was about a half hour later when I heard my name being shouted excitedly. As I looked up from the bench I was sitting on, I spotted James Hunter and Riley Biers sprinting towards me with huge smiles on their faces.

"Holy shit! You're alive!" Riley said in disbelief as he reached out and touched me, as though trying to confirm that he was really seeing me.

"Jesus, Cullen. What happened to you? Where did you go?" James asked in shock.

So as they sat down beside me, I told them how I got separated from them and ended up joining Team 1. After I finished telling my story, it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't see Liam Connelly and Sergeant Austin Marks anywhere.

"Guys, where are Liam and Sergeant Marks?"

The two men looked at me with somber faces and told me that they were missing.

James took a deep breath and explained, "We had gone into the Custom's House because we saw some people duck in there. We were gonna tell them to evacuate the area immediately. We had only been inside for about two minutes when the North Tower started to come down. It destroyed a lot of the building, and Biers and I came real close to not making it."

"The last time we saw the Sergeant and Liam, they were running into the building behind us," Riley added sadly. "Afterwards, we realized they weren't with us anymore, and we tried to look for them, but the dust made it impossible to see anything. Eventually, we made the choice to try to get out of the wreckage and find some more help."

I watched as James suddenly got really pale. "I hope to God that they're okay, but honestly? I think they're dead." He closed his eyes and cleared his throat before turning back towards me. "Cullen, from what little we could see, it was bad. Like, really really bad. I don't even know how we managed to survive." James went on to describe what he and Riley had witnessed for the next few minutes.

By the time he was done talking, James was shaking and crying. The horrific events of today finally caught up to him.

Riley wasn't much better at this point either. There was a dazed look in his eyes, like he wasn't entirely with us anymore, so I suggested that he and James go get checked out at the hospital, and I waved over a paramedic to get them. As I watched them both being helped over to an ambulance and being driven off, I sat down again and tried to figure out what I should do next.

In my head, I debated going to the hospital to get checked out even though I felt fine, and I even contemplated leaving this whole mess behind me and go home. At least if I did that, I'd learn for sure if my wife was okay. Maybe I would even learn the fate of my brother, Edward.

But it wasn't until I heard someone mention something about going back to the World Trade Center to look for the missing ESU officers and survivors, that my mind was made up for me.

If there was some slim chance that people were still alive back there, time was of the essence. I needed to go back.

* * *

 **A/N: I just wanted to let you all know that there will be 12 chapters in all for this story.**

 **Next update will be tomorrow. :)**


	7. Chapter 7 - The Pit

**A/N: So, I know I said that there would be 12 chapters for this story, but I had to add 1 more, so now there will be 13 chapters in all.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 - The Pit**

Once a plan had been formed by the guys in charge, the men that wanted to go back to the World Trade Center were put into more teams. As Team 1 was still intact, I joined up with them again.

Sergeant Banner sent a couple of teams to retrieve weapons and tools from the damaged vehicles. When the teams came back, they handed them out to the other teams to use.

When we were ready, we began to march out of the park, and headed East on Liberty, towards The World Trade Center.

Now that most of the dust had lifted, visibility was much better. You could now see the inches of dust and paper that littered the ground.

The walk was quiet. Aside from the constant radio chatter and the sounds of our boots, no one was talking.

The smell of burning metal reached my nostrils and stung my eyes. But I kept walking.

We made a left turn on Greenwich, and stopped in our tracks as the World Trade Center came into our view. We could now hear the beeping of alarms going off, breaking the silence as we traveled closer. But the alarms weren't just from vehicles.

Most of the alarms going off were called PASS (Personal Alert Safety System) Devices. They are located on the masks of firefighters. If the device senses no movement for about 30 seconds, the alarm sounds off.

There were so many alarms going off, you couldn't keep count, and each one represented a fallen firefighter.

We continued down Greenwich until we reached the perimeter of the World Trade Center. All we could do was stand and stare at the massive pile of tangled metal and flesh. Our tools and equipment wouldn't do us any good at this point.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Banner managed to find Captian Aro Volturi running around putting out small fires. Turns out, he never left after the collapses. He's been here the whole time. After the two of them put their heads together, they came up with a new plan.

"Alright, men! Listen up!" Volturi yelled loudly. "Everyone is to work in a one-to-one buddy system. No one goes anywhere without someone else knowing." That was crucial information. The pile was dangerous and unstable. You could even hear the metal popping and shifting.

As was the norm on any other given day, Jasper Whitlock was chosen to be my 'buddy'.

We were told to start searching along the perimeter of the pile where the heat wasn't too bad, for pockets where people could possibly be. We didn't find any survivors.

At around 5:00 PM, the FDNY ordered us to vacate the area. They were concerned about the stability of some of the smaller buildings and worried that they may collapse also due to damage caused by the collapse of the towers and fires.

They were right. Approximately 5:28 PM, WTC Building 7 collapsed due to fire damage. The building caught fire from debris and had been burning for almost seven hours. When I heard how long it had burned, I wondered out loud why the fire hadn't been put out.

A fireman standing near me overheard my question and explained to me that unfortunately, some of the water systems had been damaged and they didn't enough water pressure to put it out, so they had no choice but to let it burn.

Knowing we wouldn't be getting back in the area anytime soon, our bosses told us go home and come back tomorrow. With heavy sighs the weary ESU men did as they were told and left the scene.

Before going home, I decided to stop back at the station and take a shower and put clean clothes on. I put my dust covered uniform in an evidence bag and took it with me.

By the time I arrived home around 6:30 PM, I was ready to pass out. I no sooner opened the door, when my wife Rosalie came flying at me with tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

"Oh my God! You're okay! I was so worried about you, Emmett," she cried. "They said on the news that thousands of people are dead, and that a lot of law enforcement officers were lost as well. I was so scared that one of them would be you."

"I'm here, Rose. I'm alright," I said gently. "Are you okay?"

Rosalie sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "Yeah. I left work at about 8:20 this morning. I had just made it to corner of Church and Broadway when I heard a plane in the distance. I could hear it getting closer and then I finally saw it. I watched as it crashed into the North Tower." Her tears began to flow again as she told me what happened to her. "I got so scared, Emmett. There was this huge ball of fire and then stuff started flying everywhere. I just ran. I never even made it to my appointment. By the time I got back here you were gone."

I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. "Shit. I'm sorry I scared you. I tried calling you, but you never answered your phone."

Rosalie's face changed to a look of surprise. "You did? Oh God. You must have been so worried. I lost my phone while I was running."

"Did my parents get in touch with you at all?"

She nodded. "Yeah. They called the house about an hour ago and let me know you tried to get in touch with me. They were really happy to know I was okay. Then they asked me if I had heard from Edward, and your mom started crying when I told her I hadn't. It took a few minutes for Carlisle to calm her down. Before we hung up, I told them I'd let them know if I hear anything."

I pulled myself away from her and went to sit down on the sofa. "I tried calling him earlier this morning, but he didn't answer my calls either."

Rosalie's face fell at that news. "I'm so sorry, Em. Do you think he's alright?"

"I don't know, Rose," I replied quietly. "I keep hoping that he is, that maybe he's just in shock somewhere or in a hospital." I stood up and began pacing around the living room. "Who knows? Maybe he doesn't have access to a working phone right now. I heard that something's wrong with the cell phone signals or whatever."

My wife stood up and grabbed my arm, dragging me back over to the sofa. "Baby, a lot has happened today. Maybe it would be best not to assume anything until we know for sure if he's alive. You'll make yourself sick with worry."

I tried taking a few deep breaths to calm down, but it was too late. The events of today finally got to me, and I couldn't hold my emotions in any longer.

I completely broke down in tears, sobbing so hard, I was gasping for breath as my wife wrapped her arms around me again and cried along with me.

I'm not sure how long we were like that, but after we managed to get ourselves together, Rosalie got up to make us some dinner and in the meantime, I turned the TV on to see if any progress had been made at what was left of the World Trade Center and learned some devestating news.

There had been two more attacks today. A third plane crashed into the Pentagon in Washington D.C., and a fourth plane crashed into a field in Pennsylvania.

Hearing this reminded me of the warning we had gotten about the threat of more planes attacking us while we were traveling towards the Twin Towers. I guess it was partially correct, as the target was wrong.

My wife and I continued watching the news coverage as we forced ourselves to eat our food. We didn't really have appetites, and there were a few times when I heard something on the news that made me want to throw it back up, but I knew if I was going to go back the next day, I'd need my strength.

While we continued eating, I told her how a couple of guys I teamed up with today are missing, and that one of them was our good friend Liam Connelly. Rosalie didn't take the news well, and immediately went and called Liam's wife Maggie to see how she was doing. It was heartbreaking.

Finally, it was around 8:00 PM that our hope was renewed a little.

Reports had come in informing the country that a couple of survivors had been located in the rubble and that emergency workers were doing their best to get them out. I knew it was a long shot, but I really hoped that Liam and Sergeant Marks would be among them, along with the other 21 missing NYPD officers.

I tried to stay awake and follow the story, but at some point exhaustion won out, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up to a brand new day...and a whole new world.

* * *

 **A/N: The PASS Alarms aren't mentioned very often in witness testimonies, so if you want to understand what I'm talking about, or want to get a better idea of what the men were hearing, go to GOOGLE and type in Pass Alarms 9/11. The first results will be youtube videos of the alarms going off at Ground Zero. Both videos are the same, so either one works.**

 **I got chapter 10 finished last night, so I'm going to work on chapter 11 today. :)**

 **Next update will be tomorrow.**


	8. Chapter 8 - Search and Rescue

**A/N: As promised, here is the next update.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8 - Search and Rescue**

 **September 12th-14th**

The faint sound of my radio alarm going off woke me up. When I reached over to turn it off, I realized I was still lying on the living room sofa. I had been so exhausted the night before, that I hadn't even made it to my bed.

I sat up and pushed the blanket off of me. Rosalie must have covered me up after I had fallen asleep. I stood up and made my way upstairs to our bedroom to turn off my alarm.

To my surprise, my wife wasn't there, and for a split second I thought that maybe last night had been a dream...that maybe I just imagined coming home to find her here, and that she was really gone.

That thought was enough to scare me into running around the house looking for her, or at the very least find some evidence she had been here. It wasn't until I reached the kitchen that I found her...hunched over in a chair with her head resting on the table, fast asleep.

I let out a soft sigh of relief and walked over to wake her up. As I leaned over to gently shake her, I noticed a piece of paper and a pen lying under her arms. With my curiosity getting the best of me, I gently pulled the paper out from under her and looked at it.

At the top was my brother's name, birthday, and physical description. And below that, was a list of names and phone numbers, all of which I soon realized belonged to hospitals located all over New York. If I had to guess, there must have been about twenty of them.

And each one had been crossed out.

At that moment, my emotions started to contradict one another. On one hand, knowing that Rosalie stayed up all night calling around to look for my missing brother made me feel happy and grateful for finding such an amazing woman to spend my life with, but at the same time I was saddened, because she hadn't been able to locate him. Edward was still missing.

Trying to hold back my tears, I proceeded to wake Rosalie up.

Because of what happened yesterday, she no longer had a job to go to, so I had no idea what she planned to do for the day, but I needed her to know that I was leaving to go help with the search effort and that I had no clue when I'd be back home.

She hugged me and kissed me after I thanked her for trying to find Edward and then she went upstairs and crawled into bed, while I got myself showered and dressed. Soon after, I was on my way to the precinct.

Once there, I grabbed my gear and asked where I needed to report to for orders. I was told to go back to the high school, which had become the temporary headquarters for ESU.

Almost as soon as I got there, I was placed on a team of eight men and we set out for Ground Zero as the area was now called, immediately.

It was strange walking there. We didn't have any transportation to take us, so it was our only option, but that's not what made it strange.

It was the fact that sometime overnight, tents and market stands were set up along the way. We were handed cups of coffee and food, and I was even offered a pack of socks and a pocket bible by some kind people, trying to do what they could to help in their own way.

We contined on our way down Greenwich and entered the site near where the South Tower had stood only the day before.

There were hundreds of people walking amongst the debris, looking for people trapped beneath the rubble. Large machines had arrived overnight to help clear some of mess. There were even a bunch of Search and Rescue dogs diligently doing their jobs. I noticed that some even wore little boots to protect their feet from the heat and sharp objects.

The team was greeted by a firefighter and told that we needed to check in with our bosses before venturing into what had become known as 'The Pile' or 'The Pit.'

Then after accomplishing that task, we prepared ourselves for the task ahead by connecting our rappeling ropes to one another to form a human chain. This was done because we had been informed that there were a lot of drop-offs and crevices amongst the ruins.

And then our search for survivors began.

Climbing over the twisted metal was a challenge in itself. The pile seemed almost alive, constantly shifting beneath our feet with every movement, changing shape with every second that passed. Not only did we not know how stable the areas we walked across were, but we had to watch out for hot spots. Literally.

There were a couple of times where we had to walk over places so hot, we had to move quickly because if we stood too long, the bottoms of our boots began to melt.

Coming across bodies or body parts was the worst part. Because our orders were to focus on finding anyone still alive, we had to leave the dead as they were for the time being. I felt like shit for doing so, because in my mind, it was disrespectful to the deceased and to the families waiting for some kind of confirmation that their loved ones were gone.

I knew exactly how they felt.

Ignoring the dust and smoke that kept getting in our eyes, we carried on for about an hour when suddenly, one of the rescue dogs began to bark. A survivor had been found. People cheered as the woman was extracted from the rubble, and then they went back to searching.

Any hope I had of finding Liam Connelly, Sergeant Marks, and the other officers alive was slowly disappearing.

This is how it went for the next two days and nights, although no more people had been found alive, but we were still hopeful. And by 'we', I mean most of the workers. Me personally? Not so much. The more time that passed, I knew that it was more and more unlikely that there was anyone else needing to be rescued, and the increasingly strong smell of death and decay mixed with burning metal and smoke, made it harder to believe.

I think that even the Search and Rescue dogs knew it, too. According to their handlers, they had become depressed from not finding more people alive. It got to the point where volunteers were instructed to hide themselves in the rubble so the dogs could 'find' them and hopefully improve their moods.

It was also around this time when we began to receive frantic calls from the victim's families. They were starting to receive messages from their loved ones telling them that they were okay. This led the families to believe that they were still stuck beneath the rubble, waiting to be rescued.

As our efforts doubled trying to locate these people, it soon became clear what was happening.

Technology was playing a cruel trick on people. On September 11th, before the towers fell, so many people were trying to contact each other, that the networks jammed, stopping the flow of messages being sent. And then the cell phone towers were destroyed in the collapse, keeping those messages stuck in cyberspace.

When the networks began to work again, those messages were finally able to start reaching whoever they were intended for...days after they were made, and the people that made the calls were no longer among the living.

But still, we kept looking.

As the piles of debris were slowly removed from the site, more areas became accessible for us to search. We were now able to start rappeling down into the large caverns created by the collapse.

At one point, we even ended up in part of the underground mall, where surprisingly a few of the stores remained somewhat intact, with clothes still on their racks and books sitting on the shelves, all covered in dust. But still no more survivors. It was really starting to affect the already fragile morale of all of the workers.

And then on September 14th, President George W. Bush arrived at Ground Zero. I guess he could see how much of a toll this whole thing was taken on all of us working here, and decided to do something about it.

As workers gathered all around him, we watched as he was given a bullhorn, and he climbed on top of a crushed firetruck and began to deliver a speech about how America was praying for everyone. It was a little hard to hear, because the damn horn wasn't very loud. It was probably clogged with dust.

Suddenly, one of the workers yelled to the President that he couldn't hear him. And Bush yelled into the bullhorn, _"I can hear you! I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you! And the people - and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!"_

Right after he said that, the air erupted into chants of "USA! USA! USA!"

I think it was just the boost we all needed, even if it was only temporary.

At the end of that day though, I think everyone knew that we wouldn't find anyone else needing to be rescued, but the speech from the President earlier gave us the strength to hold onto hope for a little while longer. When it was time for us to leave, we made our way out of the wreckage, returned to the precinct to shower and change our uniforms, and headed home to our families.

As soon as I walked in the door, I knew something had happened. Rosalie was already there waiting for me, with a huge smile on her face. "It's Edward," she said to me. "He's alive!"

I could feel a grin spread across my face at the happy news. "How did you find out? Where is he? Is he alright?" I asked quickly.

Rosalie chuckled. "Slow down, babe. Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"He's here?" I asked her, finding it hard to believe.

"In the living room."

I went to run past her to see my brother, but stopped and gave her a quick hug, before flying into the room.

Sure enough, he was here.

As soon as he saw me, Edward jumped to his feet and flung himself at me. I hugged the fucker so hard he couldn't breathe.

Once I finally let go of him, I stepped back and took a good look at him. He had some cuts and bruises on him and if I had to guess, he was wearing the same clothes from the day of the attacks. The sleeves on his shirt were torn and looked a little singed from fire, and his pants were in the same shape.

"Edward, bro, you have no idea how good it is to see you right now. I thought you were dead."

With a shaky breath, Edward explained, "I almost did die. I got trapped inside of an elevator as I was leaving after the first tower was hit. I managed to free myself and then I was found by one of my coworkers. She and I helped each other down and out of the South Tower and we started running once we got outside. A minute later it started to collapse and we got caught in the dust cloud. After we finally found our way out of it, we heard the other tower come down and started running again. Eventually, we ended up in a hotel room here in Brooklyn."

"Oh my God!" Rosalie gasped.

"Holy shit, bro!" Then my brain caught up with me. "Wait, you've been in Brooklyn this whole time? What the fuck, Edward? You couldn't have called or just come over?" I yelled angrily.

I watched my brother sort of curl into himself and look abashed. "I'm sorry, Em. Bella and I have been dealing with a lot of shit, okay? She's handling this a lot worse than I am, and I was afraid to leave her alone. She was finally calm enough for me to get out of the room for a bit today, so I came here. I also called Mom and Dad and let them know I'm okay."

I sat down on the sofa and Edward did the same. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. It's just that for the last three days I kept wondering if I was going to find you dead or alive, and it's been eating away at me. Then to find out you've been here all along, it's crazy."

Edward nodded. "I get it. I'm truly sorry for putting you all through that."

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Edward spoke again. "Em, I hate to leave, but I have to get back to Bella. It's getting late."

"Okay," I told him with a sigh. "Is this Bella person alright, Ed?"

My brother shook his head at me sadly. "She's pretty traumatized. Once we can get some flight tickets, I'm escorting her back to her hometown in Washington state, and then I'm going to stay with Mom and Dad in Chicago for awhile. Before we leave, we'll stop by here the night before so I can say goodbye to you guys."

After getting another hug from me and one from Rosalie, we said goodbye, and Edward left. I was going to miss him when he leaves New York, but I understand why he wants to go. It's going to be weird not having him nearby, but at least I know he's alive, which is more than I can say for many people.

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! Edward is alive. Although, if you read my other story** **Out of the Dust We Rise** **, you already knew he survived.**

 **I hate to do this, but the next update will be on Friday. I had to go back and fix some things in some of the chapters I had pre-written and it took up a lot of my time, so I wasn't able to finish the latest one.**

 **See you then!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Recovery

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating. I completely rewrote two of the future chapters and I needed an extra day to get ahead a little. :)**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - Recovery**

 **October 2001-May 2002**

After spending the first four weeks after the attacks looking for survivors in the rubble of the World Trade Center, the search was called off. Our main mission was to now recover the remains of those that perished, as it was clear that no one would have been able to survive this long under the wreckage of the Twin Towers.

Everybody taking part in the effort knew that recovering the remains of all of the victims was going to be a long and difficult task. It was estimated that nearly 10,000 people died on that horrific Tuesday morning, and that didn't include the victims from the Pentagon or the other planes, just New York.

To be honest though, I found that number to be kind of hard to believe. I would think that if it were true, we would have come across more bodies in our initial search for survivors, but we didn't.

The first few days of the Recovery mission were hard. The bodies discovered first came from around the perimeter, and were mostly firemen and law enforcement.

Regardless of who the victim was, each body was draped in an American flag and carried out of the site.

But for every firefighter and police officer found, a call would come over the radios, and everybody would stop what they were doing and line up in a makeshift path and salute the fallen heroes as they made their final journey out of the wreckage. We would all stay that way until the bodies were loaded into vehicles and driven off-site.

Then we were allowed to get back to work, digging through the rubble with our little hand tools and crawling into small spaces barely big enough for a grown man to fit through, with little to show for it.

It was around late October or early November when we actually started to find more than just small bits of flesh and bone. We were finding whole body parts and bodies, though badly decomposed, as we were able to get down deeper into the remains of the collapsed towers.

One of the many things I hated was suffering setbacks. Most often these would occur when debris was moved, causing oxygen to reach the fires burning below and making them flare up. Other times, we would get warnings about the surrounding buildings collapsing, causing everyone to drop what they were doing and run...only to find out it was a false alarm.

Because of this, we began to watch the ironworkers. Even after we would get warned, they would stay where they were. One time, they had been ordered to run with everyone else, and they told us not to worry. They knew what they were doing, it was their job after all. If we saw them running, _then_ we were in trouble.

And so the work continued.

It was gruesome and horrific, but someone had to do it. To me, one of the worst parts of doing this, was when we had to rely on our other senses to find people.

After being in the rubble for so long, everything starts to look the same. It becomes hard to distinguish one thing from another, and a lot of the time, the only way to know for sure that there were human remains nearby was by the smell of decay.

There was this one time where I heard a commotion over by one of the large grappler machines. It has giant claw-like things that can pick up large chunks of stuff and move them out of the way. As I looked on in curiousity, I watched as a couple of police officers began to frantically search around the area. To my disbelief and my partial amusement, they actually got down on all fours and began sniffing at the ground like a bunch of dogs, trying to locate the source of the smell. I continued to watch this scene for a few minutes, until they realized that the body wasn't on the ground at all. It was in the air, stuck to a metal beam shaped like a cross, hanging above their heads from the machine.

It was because of that particular incident that I always made sure to look everywhere around me, especially up.

When November finally arrived, not much had changed. It felt like everyday was the same, and after a while, it began to wear a person down emotionally and physically. I can personally attest to that.

More and more often, I was finding it harder to keep going. At the beginning, our goal was to find everyone and return them to their families and loved ones, but as time wore on, it became clear that not everyone would be found. Knowing that seemed to lessen our spirits, but that didn't mean we would stop trying, even if it was at our own expense.

I continued to dig through the rubble with my rake and shovel, minutes blending into hours and days, while thoughts of the dead constantly ran through my head.

I slowly began to have difficulty keeping my emotions in check. One moment I'd be okay, and the next, I would suddenly become frustrated and angry. I was angry at the men who chose to hijack those planes and crash them, snuffing out the lives of thousands of innocent people.

My time spent at Ground Zero had even begun to affect my marriage. On most nights when I got home, I'd be so exhausted that I'd fall asleep almost as soon as I sat down on the sofa. It got to where I began keeping a pillow and a blanket there, which didn't make Rosalie very happy.

My mood swings didn't help either. There were a few times when I ended up snapping at her when she expressed her concerns about my emotional and physical health. Along with the changes in my behavior, I had also lost a bit of weight.

I kept telling her I was fine and I'd even try and placate her by shoving a bunch of food in my mouth and eating it, but I'm not sure who I was trying to convince. One of the reasons I fell in love with her was because she wouldn't put up with my bullshit, and she called me out on it every time. This was no different.

It was finally around the middle of December when my personal quest to bring closure to the families of the victims suffered a setback.

It happened when the bodies of my friends Liam Connelly and Sergeant Marks had been found.

Liam was found first, and later that same day, Sergeant Marks was recovered not far from him, along with the remains of some civilians. It appeared that they died trying to help them.

The news hit me hard, and I had to take a few days off to deal with it and attend their funerals. Despite knowing for months that they were gone, it was a comfort to know that I didn't have to wonder what happened to them anymore, or worry about whether or not they would ever be brought home.

But at the same time, finding those two men had been one of the stronger forces driving me to keep going in the search to find people, and now that drive had lessened a bit, but it was still there.

So I kept going, but I did start to cut my hours back. The days I took off helped me realize that I had been under more stress than I realized, and that wasn't a good thing as I would soon come to find out in the months ahead.

As the months came and went, the pile of debris grew smaller and smaller.

After a new bridge had been built for the trucks and machines to use to haul things out of the pit, the area where the previous ramp was located was finally able to be searched for people.

It was previously assumed that there would be bodies under it, but looking for them had to be put off until the bridge was built. And we were right. This spot yielded more bodies in a single location than any other throughout the entire operation at an astounding number of 70.

In March, the last body belonging to a police officer was recovered, and on April 11th, the last civilians were recovered from Ground Zero.

Around May, almost all of the debris had been removed, so we were now busy sifting through the remaining rubble and dust for small pieces of bones.

Then on May 28th, a couple of workers carrying a sign saying 'We Will Never Forget' led hundreds of others that spent time at the site down to the last steel column still standing to watch as it was cut down. And once more, chants of' _USA! USA! USA!_ 'filled the air.

Two days later on May 30, 2002, the final march out of Ground Zero began at 10:29AM, the exact time that the North Tower collapsed nine months before.

As officers, firefighters, and workers lined the ramp, a stokes basket carrying an American flag was carried out to the sound of trumpets playing 'Taps' and the ringing of a bell, to symbolize all of the people who lost their lives on 9/11.

Afterwards, bagpipers played _Amazing Grace_ while being lead by a truck carrying the steel beam from the South Tower that was cut down days before, also draped in an American flag, as it drove out of the pit and up the giant ramp.

From there, when the truck passed a unit of recovery workers, those workers fell in line right behind it, and the cycle contined as more units were passed and fell in line, until it became a procession.

When it was my turn to join up with the parade of men and women who worked among the ruins of the World Trade Center, I took one final look at the empty space that had become America's most hallowed ground, and where I saw things nobody should have ever had to see, and then I marched out of the pit one last time.

In that moment, I felt so many things, but the two feelings that stood out the most were pride and sadness. I was proud of how hard I worked to try and help recover all of the ones who perished, but I was sad because I knew that despite our effort, many were never found at all.

From here on out, it was time to start moving on and moving forward with my life. But it wouldn't be easy.

* * *

 **A/N: Just a few more chapters to go now.**

 **Next update will either be on Saturday or Sunday, depending on whether I can get another chapter done tonight.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Broken

**A/N: Here you go. :)**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Broken**

In the beginning after the closing ceremony at Ground Zero, things were going okay. At first.

After spending so much time working at the site, my boss let me have a couple of weeks off of work to catch up on some much needed rest and relaxation.

It was during this time that I began to notice that something was amiss.

It all started one afternoon when I had to take out the trash from the night before. We had one of those old metal trash cans that sat along the side of our brownstone house. I had just put the bag of garbage into the can and put the lid on it when I heard a loud, echoing thud come from somewhere nearby.

Suddenly, images of debris and bodies falling from the sky ran through my mind, and I just reacted. I flung myself to the ground and covered my head with my arms. I layed there for about two minutes, listening for more sounds, when it occured to me that I was still outside of my home in Brooklyn. I realized that the noise I heard was the heavy lid of a full sized dumpster slamming shut a few houses down. I was slightly shaken up over what just happened, and with the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I decided to take my mind off the incident by going down to the gym and working out.

I tried to ignore what had happened by keeping myself busy, but once I went back to work, things got worse.

The smallest things like changing in and out of my uniform brought up images of dust covered clothing that carried the lingering smell of death, despite everyone being issued brand new uniforms, and the nasty taste of the coffee made my mind wander back to those first days of the search and rescue mission, when we'd walk to Ground Zero from the high school and be handed coffee from the market stands.

But I never told anyone what was happening.

I became increasingly anxious as time passed, constantly worrying that something else would bring up memories I would rather forget. But it seemed like I couldn't escape that day or the months after.

Not even in my sleep.

Nightmares of all sorts plagued my mind. Sometimes they were memories of being inside the North Tower, or of the giant dust cloud racing after me as I ran for cover, sometimes they were purely my imagination working against me. One of the most prominent nightmares I had, was of me climbing to the top of the debris pile, only to look down and discover that the entire thing was made up of body parts. Afterwards, I'd wake up in a cold sweat, unable to go back to sleep.

I knew my behavior was starting to concern Rosalie, but just like I did while working in the pit, I told her everything was fine, even though it wasn't. I hated lying to her, but I had good reason to. I knew I could talk to my wife about many things that bothered me, but I never wanted her to know about the kinds of things I saw that day or during the rescue and recovery. I didn't want to subject her to that.

But she continued to nag me about it until I finally snapped.

In a fit of anger, I told her about the things I saw that awful day in detail. I had never spoken of it to her, or anyone else before. From watching the second plane crash into the South Tower on live television, the jumpers, the collapses and getting caught in the cloud of dust, all of it. I even described some of the horrifying things I saw during the recovery mission, like the crushed elevator that was opened up one day to reveal a bunch of legs tangled together, to hands and fingers still wearing wedding rings, and the crushed helmets of firefighters that left little to the imagination as to how the men died.

I told her about the things that have been happening over the past few months, and by the time I was done, she was crying. Seeing her like that destroyed what little strength I had left and I dropped to my knees and completely broke down into heaving, gut wrenching sobs, and no matter what she did to try and help, nothing worked.

I'm not sure sure if it was hearing my account of things that made her do what she did next, or if it was seeing me on the floor, crying and broken, but whatever the reason, I'm glad she picked up the phone and called my partner.

A few minutes later, Jasper Whitlock arrived at my house in his uniform. He pulled Rosalie aside and had a quick word with her before slowly making his way towards me. He spent the next half hour trying to calm me down, but like Rosalie, he wasn't having any luck.

So I guess he did the only thing he could think of that could help me...he called for an ambulance to take me to the nearest hospital for a psych evaluation.

Being partners in the ESU, there have been times in the past where we've been put in situations where our lives were at stake, and we had to make choices that would wind up saving each other's asses, but the decision that Jasper made that day beat all of them combined.

After spending two days in the hospital, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It was because of my wife and Jasper that I would finally get the help I needed to help cope with the events of September 11, 2001 and it's aftermath.

It wasn't easy though, but with lots of support from my friends and family, medication, and therapy, I slowly began to feel like myself again.

* * *

 **A/N: With as much research as I've done for this story, finding information about the effects of PTSD in the NYPD after 9/11 was surprisingly difficult. And finding anything relating to the Emergency Service Unit was nearly impossible.**

 **However, I did come across one account from an ESU officer that mentioned that there was a program developed in recent years to help officers deal with stress but it wasn't mandatory. It wasn't clear whether or not that program included the ESU or if it was for the other departments of the NYPD.**

 **Also, the next update will be sometime between Monday and Wednesday, depending on how long it takes me to get the next chapter written.**


	11. Chapter 11 - New Beginnings

**A/N: Okay, so I want you all to know beforehand, that I had a lot of trouble getting this chapter finished. After discovering some critical mistakes in my previous chapters, I had to go back and fix them, which ultimately required me to completely redo the pre-written chapters that came after them. Including this one.**

 **So I personally don't think this one came out the way I intended it, but I tried really hard to come close to my vision.**

 **Oh well. I'll let you decide whether you like it or not.**

 **** *Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11 - New Beginnings**

 **Present Time**

"Emmett," a voice whispered softly.

"Hmm?" I mumbled with my eyes still closed.

"You have to wake up. We're going to be landing soon," Rosalie explained as she gently shook me to rouse me from my sleep.

"Already?" I asked in surprise as I opened my eyes.

She smiled at me and let out a soft chuckle. "Honey, you've been sleeping for the past five and a half hours."

I yawned and stretched my arms above my head and worked the kinks out of my neck. "I'm surprised I slept that long."

"Me too." My wife has this look that she gets when she wants to know something, and she was giving it to me right now. "What were you dreaming about?"

And there it is.

I shrugged and told her, "Same as usual around this time of year." I looked around the plane quickly before turning back to her. "I hope I didn't disrupt anyone." I have a tendency to scream or cry out in my sleep when I dream about that time.

Rosalie's smile grew even bigger. "No, you didn't. You slept quietly. I think that's the first time you've had that dream and didn't lash out."

I could feel my own smile spreading across my face as I realized she was right. As a sense of accomplishment washed over me, I wondered if this recent trip to New York had something to do with it.

Rosalie and I moved to Forks, Washington in 2008 to be closer to my family and to start fresh in a place that wasn't a constant reminder of what we had all been through.

My brother Edward was the first of the Cullen's to move there. Bella Swan, the woman that escaped the South Tower of the World Trade Center with him, grew up there. After the attacks, Edward took her back there so she wouldn't be alone, and then he went to live with my parents in Chicago. The two of them kept in touch over the years and fell in love. Edward moved to Forks and married Bella, and the two of them had a daughter. She was born on the anniversary of 9/11. Her name is Remembrance Hope Cullen, but everyone calls her 'Mem'.

My parents moved out there shortly after Mem was born, and after much prompting, we joined them, though we weren't too sure about it at first. New York had been our home for over two decades and held many memories for us, both good and bad.

But our decision to move was eventually made after I was diagnosed with asthma as a result of being exposed to the toxic dust at Ground Zero, and could no longer work in the Emergency Service Unit, as a major part of my job involved carrying a lot of heavy equipment for long periods of time. It just became too much for my body to handle afterwards.

The stress that came from losing my job triggered my PTSD again, and it hit me really hard. For a short time, the flashbacks and nightmares came back full force and so vividly, that there were actually a few times when I had a difficult time distinguishing the visions of the past from the present. I needed to be hospitalized again and have my meds adjusted.

The big move came after I had finished recovering from that time. After hearing about what had happened with my job, Bella's father Charlie, offered me a job in his police department. He was the Chief of Police in Forks. Being given the chance to be in law enforcement again, and live in the same town as the rest of my family, was what made us decide to move.

It took a bit of time to get used to living in a small town, but it was worth it, even though I don't care much for the rain. Forks is quiet and the people are really nice. Unlike in New York, there isn't a whole lot of crime. It was a great place to start a family of our own.

And two years later on May 22, 2010, my wife and I welcomed our son into the world. He had our blue eyes, but he had red hair, which probably came from my mother's side of the family. We already knew what we were going to name him, but his red hair made it more fitting.

We named him Liam Austin Cullen, in honor of two of the best men I knew and served with on 9/11.

He was a little spitfire and full of energy. He brought us so much joy and happiness, and kept us on our toes, and we love him with all of our hearts.

All in all, things were going well for us after we moved to Washington. But despite all of that, I still felt like their was something missing in my heart. A part of it was still hollow.

It wasn't until my brother decided to head back to New York to visit the 9/11 Memorial in 2014 to gain some closure, that I began to wonder if maybe going back there was what I needed as well.

We had made many trips to New York over the years, but we never returned to the place that permanently left its mark on us.

Until recently.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright, all that's left is the epilogue and a page of interesting facts I came across in my research for this story.**

 **Like I mentioned in my earlier note, I had to redo some chapters, and the epilogue is one of them, so I'll need a couple of days to rewrite it.**

 **So expect an update this week. I might even manage to get it done early. :)**


	12. Chapter 12 - Hollow No More

**A/N: Well, here we are. We've finally reached the epilogue.**

 *****Warning! This story contains graphic material regarding the events of 9/11. Tissues may be needed. *****

 **Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns** _ **Twilight**_ **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12 - Hollow No More**

As the plane began its descent towards the runway at SeaTac Airport, I took some deep, calming breaths to prepare myself for the landing. I really hated this part. Within minutes, the plane bounced slightly as the wheels touched the ground, while I gripped the armrests tightly.

It was over quickly, and when the plane came to a stop, we gathered our carry-on bags from the overhead compartment and began our exit from the plane. As soon as my feet touched the solid ground I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Rosalie and I then walked to the baggage claim area to get the rest of our things. Once we had them, we slowly made our way through the crowded airport to the parking lot where we left our SUV a few days earlier.

When we reached it, I unlocked it and put our bags in the backseat before closing the door and moving to open the passenger side door for Rosalie. She hated when I did that, but I was raised to be a gentleman. I do let her buckle herself in though, and after she did that, I closed the door and walked around to the driver's side and got in. I buckled myself in and started the car, and soon we were on our way back to Forks.

To pass the time, we made some small talk and listened to the radio, but we didn't discuss the trip to Ground Zero. I've been okay so far, but I didn't want to risk having some kind panic attack or flashback while I was driving.

About four hours later, I was pulling into my parent's driveway where I parked behind Edward and Bella's car.

I turned the vehicle off, and we both stepped out and closed the doors. We walked up the long driveway to the little sidewalk that lead to the front door, and knocked on it.

A moment later, footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door and then it swung open to reveal my father. With a smile on his face, he said, "Hey guys, come on in." We followed him inside the house and he gave the both of us hugs. "Welcome home," he greeted, his kind blue eyes wrinkling in the corners as he beamed at us.

"Thank you, Carlisle. It's good to be back," Rosalie said happily.

"Did you both have a good trip?" he asked us curiously.

I grinned and nodded my head. "Yeah, we did." While my family knew we had gone to New York, they didn't know the real reason why. But they would soon.

My father gave me a quick pat on the back and replied, "Good. You'll have to tell us all about it. I was actually on my way to the kitchen to grab a drink, but if you want to go on ahead to the living room, feel free. But watch where you step," he warned.

"Why?" Rosalie and I asked simultaneously.

My father reached up and ran his fingers through his hair nervously, an act my brother picked up from him. "Well, Esme kind of went a little overboard and bought Liam some lego kits to play with, and he's managed to make quite a mess."

"Awesome," I sighed sarcastically. I looked over at Rosalie and jerked my head in the direction of the living room. "I guess we should go check it out."

She rolled her eyes at me playfully. "Em, I'm sure it's not that bad."

"You've obviously never played with legos."

Without another word, she took off and I trailed behind her as my father openly laughed at us. I flipped him off which made him laugh even harder before he turned around and made his way to the kitchen.

As we walked through the house, we began to hear the sounds of laughter the closer we got. When we finally reached the living room, we stopped in our tracks and took in the scene before us.

Sitting in the middle of the floor, were Edward and Liam...surrounded by piles and piles of legos. They appeared to be building some kind of fort with them, and having a blast doing it. In the chair behind them, sat Mem. She was sitting pretzel style with a book open in her lap, oblivious to what was going on in front of her.

Watching them from one of the sofas, were Bella and my mother.

No one had heard us approach, so I cleared my throat to gain their attention. "Having fun without us?"

Liam's head shot up and a look of pure joy spread across his face. "Daddy! Mommy!" he shouted happily as he quickly jumped to his feet and ran over to us, somehow managing not to step on a single lego. It was impressive.

"Hey, little man," I greeted, scooping him up into my arms and giving him a kiss on the cheek before handing him over to his mother. "Did you miss us?"

Liam nodded his head. "Yeah."

"Aww. We missed you, too. Did you have fun staying with Auntie Bella and Uncle Edward though?" Rosalie asked him.

He grinned widely showing off his missing tooth. "Uh huh. We had lots and lots of fun."

"He sure did," Edward spoke up. "Bella and I took him and Mem to the aquarium in Seattle two days ago and the both of them loved it."

"We saw Nemo and Dory, and big scary sharks," explained Liam.

"Really? That's awesome, bud. I guess Mommy and I will have to take you there again sometime, huh?"

That made his eyes light up even more. "Can we go tomorrow?"

Everyone in the room laughed at his question, even my father who caught the tail end of our conversation as he entered the room.

Rosalie crouched down in front of him. "We can't go tomorrow, Liam, but how about we make plans to go there next week?"

Liam sighed dramatically and reluctantly agreed.

We then spent the next 20 minutes listening to all of the other things he got to do while we were away until he eventually lost interest and went back to playing with his legos.

"So, how was your trip to New York?" my mother asked me.

"It was great. We got to visit and catch up with a few of our friends. I even went down and visited some of the guys down at the precinct, and they let me do a ride along on one of their calls for old time's sake," I explained cheerfully.

"Really? That was awfully nice of them."

I smiled, remembering how good it felt to be back in one of the big trucks. "Yeah, it was."

My father then asked Rosalie what she did, and she explained how she spent a lot of her time with Maggie, Liam Connelly's widow. She got remarried a few years ago to a firefighter, and they have a couple of kids now.

"Did you guys do anything else while you were there?" Bella questioned curiously. "You two just seem...I don't know, different somehow. I can't put my finger on it."

Rosalie and I looked at each other and then laced our hands together, while the adults in the room waited anxiously for an answer.

Rosalie spoke up first. "We did, actually. We went back to Ground Zero and visited the 9/11 Museum and the Memorial Pools."

"Um...wow. That's not what I was expecting you to say," Edward commented in surprise. Then he looked right at me and asked, "How was it?"

I sighed heavily. "It was really hard. I wasn't really sure what to expect at first, and I was pretty nervous, but I managed to not freak out, so that's a plus. We ended up going to the museum first."

"Oh? What was it like inside? When I went there, I only visited the Memorial Pools," he said to me.

"It was interesting, and tough to see," I replied. "They have a lot of stuff from that day, way more than I thought."

We told them about some of the things that really left an impact on us, like the Survivor's Staircase. It once connected Vesey Street to the plaza of the World Trade Center, and it was also the very same staircase I used that day to get to the North Tower.

I told them how we walked through the halls, past the burnt and mangled emergency vehicles, remnants of the planes, and twisted pieces of steel that were on exhibit.

There were many items that brought about the feeling of tragedy like the personal effects of the victims, from wallets and ID badges, to jewelry and other small items, to the section about the jumpers, and the wall with over two thousand photos of the people who died.

But we also described a few of the objects that seemed to survive by nothing more than a miracle, like the glass window from the Twin Towers. Out of the more than 40,000 windows between the two, it is the only one to survive fully intact. Then you had things like a roladex, a small rotating organizer for business cards, that somehow managed to survive despite larger objects like the desks they sat upon being pulverized by the force of the collapsing towers.

After spending some more time talking about the museum, we talked about our visit to the Memorial Pools. We had walked around the North Pool first, stopping for awhile, so Rosalie could read over the names of the people from Cantor Fitzgerald that she had known. Afterwards, we made our way over to the South Pool and walked around that one, before stopping so I could pay respect to the NYPD officers I had known that lost their lives.

I explained how after we had left Ground Zero, we went back to our hotel room to absorb what we had seen and learned.

And now here we were, back home in Forks, Washington.

"So, do you think it helped? Going back there, I mean," Bella asked softly, when we were finished.

I shrugged my shoulders at her. "Maybe. I feel like maybe we found some of the closure we needed."

My wife leaned against me and smiled. "I think it did help. You've been a lot calmer than I've seen you in a while."

I leaned over and kissed her. "I guess only time will tell."

After a moment, I excused myself and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Once I finished drinking it, I placed the glass in the dishwasher and walked back to the living room. I stopped and stood right outside the doorway, and took a good at my family.

After all this family had been through, we were still going strong. The things we had experienced made us that way, and because of that, we all cherished every moment spent with one another, because we knew all too well that something could happen when we least expect it to, and change our lives as we know it.

But for now, we were all here together.

And for the first time in almost 14 years...I didn't feel hollow inside.

The End

* * *

 **A/N: There's one more chapter I'm going to add after this that will be filled with some facts and information I came across in my research. I'll work on it tomorrow.**

 **I want to thank everyone who read this story. It really meant a lot to me. I don't think a lot of people understand how difficult it was to write this. I was either constantly crying, or having to take multiple breaks to relax my brain.**

 _ **In Honor of the First Responders, Search and Rescue Teams, and the Recovery Workers.**_


	13. Chapter 13 - Facts

**A/N: Okay, so I know I mentioned this a few times already, but this isn't a story chapter. It's just going to be a bunch of interesting facts I've come across during my many months of research for this story.**

* * *

\- 411 Emergency Workers and First Responders died in the 9/11 attacks at the World Trade Center. This included 343 firefighters, 37 PAPD officers, 23 NYPD officers (14 being from the Emergency Service Unit, more than any other NYPD unit), and 8 Emergency Medical Technicians.

\- As of January 2017, 99 NYPD officers have since died from 9/11 related illnesses, and the numbers will continue to rise.

\- My character of Captian Aro Volturi was inspired by real ESU PO Kenny Winkler. He was stationed at the Command Post at the corner of Church and Vesey Street, because he didn't have time to change into his uniform and couldn't go into the towers. He was tasked with creating the Teams and keeping track of where the officers from ESU were. He kept 2 radios on at all times. One was for Special Operations, so he could hear what was happening in the rest of the city, and the other was for Tac-G, the frequency used strictly by ESU. During the collapse of the South Tower, he ducked behind a truck and in complete darkness as the dust surrounded him, he continued to try and maintain radio contact with the ESU teams.

\- The top of the South Tower above the impact zone actually tilted just before the collapse. If you go to Google Images and type in **South Tower Tilt** , you can see it.

\- A second or two before the North Tower collapsed, the antenna on top tilted as the roof gave way.

\- Of the 14 ESU officers killed on 9/11, only seven of them were found.

\- In Chapter 7 at the bottom, I made mention of a couple of survivors that had been located at Ground Zero. This was a reference to PAPD Officers John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno. Their story of survival was made into a movie directed by Oliver Stone, called _World Trade Center._ Nicolas Cage portrays McLoughlin and Michael Pena portrays Jimeno. The real Will Jimeno makes a cameo in the film as a PAPD officer.

\- Over 1.8 million tons of debris was removed from Ground Zero over the course of 9 months.

\- I'm sure everyone has seen the famous photograph of the 3 firefighters raising the flag at Ground Zero on 9/11. However, there is a lesser known photo of another flag raising that occurred on the morning of September 12, 2001. In the photo, ESU Officer Richard Miller is attaching a flag to the former weather antenna from the North Tower, while ESU Officer Richard Hartigan and another officer hold onto the ladder, while other responders stop and watch.

\- Former NYPD Detective and photographer, John Botte, had access to Ground Zero as a First Responder, and captured the aftermath of the attacks in many stunning black and white photographs that are not very well known. (Having seen some of them myself on his website, I can only describe them as tragically beautiful, and are worth checking out.) Just Google **John Botte Photos** , and the link to his website should be at the top.

\- Over $1 Billion dollars was spent to replace equipment and emergency response vehicles damaged or destroyed in the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

\- Immediately after the attacks on the World Trade Center, it was originally decided that private ferries would transport the bodies of the victims to the Yankee Stadium, Shea Stadium, and the Staten Island Yankee Stadium. However, they were never used as temporary morgues, as it was soon apparent that no bodies would be recovered right away. The private ferries were instead used to transport the living out of Manhattan.

\- If you visit the 9/11 Museum website, under the **Museum** tab, there is an option that says, **Explore Online Collection**. Here can view some of the objects recovered from the debris, including the Survivor's Window mentioned in Chapter 12.

\- On the North Pool of the Memorial, the names of the victims from the North Tower, Flight 11, and the 1993 Bombing can be found. On the South Pool, the names of the victims from the South Tower, First Responders, The Pentagon, Flight 175, Flight 77, and Flight 93 are found. On the Museum's website, there is an interactive feature that allows you to search for names on the Memorials and look through them.

\- As of January 2017, of the 2,983 victims who died in the attacks, only five of them are not represented by pictures on the memorial wall inside the 9/11 Museum. Three of them are not shown due to the request of their families, but photos of the other two people have never been located.

\- Recent studies have shown that First Responders and other emergency workers diagnosed with PTSD have a higher chance of developing other cognitive disorders such as Alzheimer's and Dementia.

\- The plumes of smoke from the burning Twin Towers could be seen from space.

\- Nearly 60 types of cancer have been linked to 9/11.

\- The last survivor pulled from the rubble of the World Trade Center was found by a police dog named Trakr. Trakr was a German Shepherd. Before he passed away in 2009 at the age of 14, his owner and handler entered a competition to have him cloned and won. His DNA was used to create 5 clones. Their names are Trusst, Solace, Valor, Prodigy, and Deja Vu.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, we've reached the end of this story. It's been a long couple of months worth of research to get here. Learning about this stuff has taught me to appreciate life in ways I never did before.**

 **I'm glad to finally finish this though.**

 **I want to thank everyone for reading, following, and favoriting this story. It means a lot to me. :)**


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